


i don't mind if you want me to (i do)

by MeansToOffend (goodmorning)



Series: Pick Me Up (Again) [8]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2017-2018 NHL Season, Detroit Red Wings, M/M, Touching, still so much touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 09:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17722184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmorning/pseuds/MeansToOffend
Summary: "He starts with light and lingering, trailing his fingertips down Manthy’s underarmor-clad bicep in the room, over his dress-shirted shoulders in bars. It’s gratifying to feel him shiver slightly, hear him take deep, steadying breaths, watch the goosebumps rise on the back of his neck."





	i don't mind if you want me to (i do)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Line](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14067267) by [MeansToOffend (goodmorning)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmorning/pseuds/MeansToOffend). 



Dylan knows he shouldn’t look at or touch or want his teammates, and he’s never had a problem keeping his eyes or his hands or his heart to himself before, but then he meets Manthy. Suddenly he can’t quite remember all the reasons it’s a bad idea; he already wants, and those emotions don’t really go away just because you ask them to. If he even wants to ask them to. Somehow he doesn’t think he does. Or maybe he just doesn’t feel like he does? He doesn’t know if there’s even a difference.

He’s never really obeyed the touching rule anyway, come to think of it. He’s always been the first to hug anyone who needs it, pat them on the back and reassure them through whatever bad stuff they’re going through, clap them on the shoulder in greeting, butt-pat everyone on a job well done. That’s what attracts him to Manthy in the first place, actually. Manthy leans into his touches like he’s starved for attention, and Dylan, without really thinking about it, starts making it a priority to touch him as much possible.

There’s no self-interest in that decision at all. At. All. 

None.

Seriously.

But it’s not until their second full season together that things start to change. Dylan comes to realize that he wants Manthy, wants him enough to actually risk going for it. And Manthy is receptive to his touch, receptive enough that just maybe he wants Dylan back.

Except - he wants to be sure. So maybe he tries stepping up the intensity first, just a little.

He starts with light and lingering, trailing his fingertips down Manthy’s underarmor-clad bicep in the room, over his dress-shirted shoulders in bars. It’s gratifying to feel him shiver slightly, hear him take deep, steadying breaths, watch the goosebumps rise on the back of his neck. Manthy licks his lips sometimes and it makes Dylan have to take a breath of his own. Honestly, it starts to be a rush in and of itself, and it’s a welcome distraction from the constant losing.

But he’s pretty convinced by now that they could have more, and he wants more. He wants to be with Manthy, to be able to touch him without having to make up plausible excuses. Currently he’s digging through his bag for sock tape, pretending to be steadying himself with a hand on Manthy’s back. Manthy, equally, is pretending to be on his phone. He’s pretty convincing, except for the fact that Dylan can see by the camera that he’s holding it upside-down. He throws the tape across the room and disengages from Manthy by slowly trailing his fingers along his waist, watching him close his eyes and sigh out what sounds like a curse or a prayer under his breath, and Dylan - Dylan has to get him alone to do this.

“Want to carpool to practice tomorrow? We can get coffee, my treat.”

Manthy stares at his face for a moment before answering. “Oh, uh, sure.” He doesn’t sound very sure.

Still, it’s a yes, and Dylan means to say “Great, see you then,” but actually all he manages to do is grin and wave as he walks out.

Manthy is quiet in the car, but so is Dylan. Possibly this is because neither of them are morning people, and they’re both half-asleep. He really should have thought this through better, he thinks, as Manthy makes a sudden turn into a parking lot. Dylan looks up and, sure enough, it’s a Starbucks. This is his moment.

Before Manthy can move, Dylan puts a hand on his thigh. He squeezes, once, and Manthy’s breath catches, and Dylan - Dylan can’t remember what he’s supposed to be saying or doing here. At all.

After practice, Manthy chokes; Dylan thumps him on the back; they walk out a little too close together. Dylan needs a plan, a framework he can’t forget or chicken out of. Then, he thinks of cheesy pick-up lines, and the way he’s never forgotten any used on him.

What else can he do?

Manthy is at the bar, alone and pouting, and Dylan not only wants to cheer him up, he’s pretty sure he can. He also promised to take a shot of vodka, which makes a great excuse to go over there even if they do have table service.

There’s an empty seat next to him, and Dylan makes for it quickly, touching the hell out of Manthy’s back in a way there’s no excuses to be made for anymore. He’s about to speak when the bartender comes by, and he orders the shot and takes it as quickly as he can, briefly flashing back to the worst party ever before he can focus on Manthy again - and on the napkin he now has as well.

He tries to dig in his pockets but his pants are a little too tight, so he gets up and finally comes up with two sharpies. That throws him; he definitely doesn’t remember having the silver one, but he puts it back and sticks with the red, like he planned. He uncaps it and carefully draws a line on the napkin, taking a breath to steady himself.

Manthy interrupts. “Are we playing, like, Pictionary now?” he asks, rattling off a series of bad guesses while Dylan tries his hardest to interrupt and get things back on track. It doesn’t work, until finally it gets too frustrating, and Dylan - Dylan grabs Manthy’s wrist, looks him in the eye, and tells him it’s a pickup line.

“But you touch everyone!” Manthy says, and Dylan wants to scowl at him and laugh in his face and hug him ridiculously hard, all at once.

Instead, he sighs, smiling slightly. “Not like I touch you,” he says, and then he’s suddenly aware that he’s still holding Manthy’s wrist.

He can either drop it or drag him out, and Dylan - Dylan drags him out, and doesn’t let go until they get to the hotel.

**Author's Note:**

> \- I still don't know anything about the Red Wings but this was more fun than I expected.  
> \- Title from "The Whip" by Locksley, which you may recognize from the Canucks fic but was also Detroit's replacement for Hockeytown last season. I considered "i'm lonely darling please" but that was a title for a fic that wasn't this one.  
> \- I'm just posting these when they get done, honestly. My original goal was to be half-done by the trade deadline but that seems implausible at best now.


End file.
